Rescuee
by Crazy Phoenix Productions
Summary: Post RE6 - Everyone needs rescuing sometimes.
1. Prologue: Sleeping Beauty

**_Disclaimer: All characters, likenesses, and locations are property of Capcom and their respective owners._**

Rescuee

Prologue: Sleeping Beauty

The room was white, just as white as it had always been. Immaculate walls lined immaculate floors with an immaculate ceiling crowning it. The front of the room was almost exclusively one way glass, so that the girl inside could be watched but could not watch in turn. The occupant was in her teens now, Sherry Birkin, and was the only surviving member of her family. Claire chewed her lip as she followed the routine of trying to reason out a way to get Sherry out of that cell. The teenage girl sobbed quietly into the pillow she had been given, and Claire's heart broke for her. She had heard about the tests Sherry's handlers had inflicted, and immediately tried to begin adoption procedures. Adoption was hard when the adoptee didn't officially exist. So Claire did what she could when she was allowed to visit the girl.

Claire received the okay to enter the room, and pushed the glass door open. Immediately, Sherry knew who had come to visit. She sprung from her prone position on the bed and wrapped her tiny arms around Claire. New bandages wrapped the appendages, no doubt from recent blood draws. Sherry had switched from sobbing into a pillow, to sobbing into Claire's chest. What had these people done to the poor girl, "Sherry," Claire made the younger girl look up at her, "What did they do?"

"I don't know," Sherry sniffled, "something about ovaries."

"Bastards…"

"Claire, when can I leave?"

"I'm trying to get you out, sweetheart. I am—"

Sherry interrupted Claire and Claire was glad for the distraction, "Then can you tell me more about Chris?" Claire would have chuckled had she not been in such a sour mood. She had started telling Sherry stories about Chris when she was fresh out of Raccoon. Claire had resorted to recounting Chris's adventures when she realized just how few classics she knew.

Claire led Sherry to the bed and sat down next to her, "Did I ever tell you about the time that Chris and I went to the shooting range?"

"Yes… but tell me again."

"Chris and I went to the shooting range a lot but there was one time when it was full up. So we were going to leave and go back in an hour. On our way out, this survivalist jerk hole knocks me over after complaining that there weren't enough lanes. Chris wanted to break his neck. Then the man started spouting off how women should be making sandwiches, and lewd remark about handling guns. I was ready to break his neck." Sherry giggled at Claire's story, it was a better sound than tears, "Chris stopped me, and challenged the jerk to a shooting contest, but instead of doing it himself, he volunteered me. Now, I was new to shooting, and I went from angry to scared in half a second flat, but Chris told me it was going to be fine. We let the asshole pick the weapons: .45 caliber, thirty aut six, and finally the elephant killer. The guy really wanted to show off his muscles. From the first time, when he put a round in the head, belly button, and air above the right shoulder, I knew I was going to win."

"What happened after that?"

"I won." Claire snapped, "My groupings were better. The Jerk just about threw a fit and stomped out."

"What about when you left?"

"Well, we found that the guy was waiting for us, and this time he had some friends with him. He said that he wasn't going to let some runt and his punk girlfriend show him up. There were about five of them, and they attacked us. Chris did most of the fighting, but I had a few teeth in my boot by the end of it. When we were done, Chris took the sandwich he had made for lunch, tossed at the guy, and said 'make me a sammich'." Sherry chuckled, her eyes still red from crying but she was feeling better, at least.

"Claire."

"Yeah, Sherry?"

"Do you think Chris would like me?"

"Are you kidding?" Claire reacted in a knee jerk, "He'd love you."

* * *

Claire had exhausted every option she could think of but one. That was why she called her brother. Sherry had been stuck in that awful facility for the better part of a decade now, and Chris wished Claire had called him sooner. He marched into the building. Security made feeble attempts to stop him. The rest of Alpha team followed in behind him. So when they moved, as a unit, the few guards that were there were all but terrified to confront them. Chris had treated this off hours outing as what it was a standard rescue mission. When they heard, every member of Alpha team volunteered to go with him.

Chris walked to the front desk, "I need to speak with Sherry Birkin." Chris demanded.

The woman punched a few keys on her computer, "I'm sorry—"

"Don't tell me there's no Sherry Birkin here. Claire Redfield says otherwise." Recognition lit in the receptionist's eyes.

"Let me—"

"Yeah you do that." Chris snarled.

Moments later, a swarthy looking man with a thin mustache and sharp features walked into the lobby. He was clothed in a beige Armani suit, and nervously twisting a gold thumb ring out of habit. He stood in direct contrast to the military style and olive drab civvies that were dominant in Alpha squad, "Derek C. Simmons," Derek stretched his hand out, Chris didn't take it, "I'm sorry but the patient in question is not available."

"That's fine, I'll talk to you." Chris growled, "Let me start. Do you know who the BSAA are?"

"I do." Simmons replied

"Then you know what we do, whose ears we have; so I'll get to the point. I want you to release Sherry Birkin into Claire's custody or we're going to have a problem."

"Mister…?"

"Captain Redfield." Simmons was surprised by Chris's name, but quickly regained his composure. He, obviously, did not expect to be dealing with one of the founders of the BSAA.

"Ah, Captain Redfield, I see. I'll tell you what I told your, I assume, sister. Sherry Birkin is a ward of the government. She can not be placed elsewhere. She can not be relocated. She is an invaluable asset—"

"You talk about her like she's property." One of Chris's men yelled.

"Frankly, she is." Simmons responded.

"This is a moment of truth, Simmons, you've got two options. You can deny my request, go about your business and hope we don't have someone higher up than you. Spoiler Alert: we do. This isn't the option you want. If I bother the people I'm thinking of bothering, and I call in those favors, they're going to wonder who I called it in on. Trust me; these people don't want me to call in those favors, and aren't going to be pissed at me. The second option, you can _find_ a way to release Sherry Birkin. You have a week to detail a plan that satisfies me and everyone goes home happy. Refuse me on this, and I will go to war with you personally, and you had better hope you're better at ruining lives than I am. Either way, the tests stop."


	2. Chapter 1: Brunhilde

**_Disclaimer: All characters, likenesses, and locations are property of Capcom and their respective owners. _**

Rescuee

Chapter 1: Brunhilde

"Agent Birkin, National security." She flipped out her badge, and then flipped it back, "Agent Birkin, National security." She flipped the badge open again. She had been repeating this motion every chance she got since informed she would be going to Edonia. It was her first international mission, or solo one for that matter, since becoming an official agent. She had been on other missions, but not without serious supervision. Those missions amounted to nothing more than what she called 'stay in the van' missions. She was grateful to be out of the cell; she just would have liked to get out and stretch her legs more. She wanted to put the weapons and combat training to use, to prove that she could be something more than a lab rat.

Her mission was to find a man by the name of Jake Muller. Intel said that he was twenty-one and had the antibodies needed to create a vaccine against a new and terrible virus. Her job was to bring a sample of blood back for study, what she took that to mean was 'protect Jake Muller'. The helicopter blades drowned out everything in the cargo bay, and she got to thinking about how she had ended up an agent of the Nation Security Agency.

Derek Simmons, a man whom she had never met before, approached her with an offer. If she would agree to serve her country, he would replace the cell she had been living in with an apartment and a healthy paycheck. The offer had come out of the blue on her eighteenth birthday, but Sherry wasted no time in taking the offer. She had said 'yes' before the offer was finished leaving Derek's mouth. That was the first time she had gotten to celebrate with friends. It was only Claire and Sherry, but a milestone none the less. Claire painted a picture of all the better places to go than Applebees, but Sherry was dubious. Ironically, her parents were health nuts and had Sherry on very limited diet before Raccoon city, which was before her father began his regimen of human flesh.

Before Derek, the lab techs, personnel, and anyone she ever talked to led Sherry to believe that she would never leave the abnormally clean cell. So what made the story change? She never got that answer. Almost as soon as she accepted, she was shipping off to the training facility where she could come and go as she pleased. Claire seemed to think it sounded like college. Now, Sherry had her twenty-seventh birthday coming up, and she was finally free. The people who had held her in captivity were no longer poking and prodding. So she was out of the frying pan.

The pilot knocked on the wall twice, which was her queue. Sherry picked herself up and strapped on her high altitude insertion rig. It was basically a fancy parachute. While training on its use, Sherry found that it releases a biodegradable cushion that deploys within ten meters from the ground. It was basically a repurposed airbag. Who better to test it on than a girl that has regenerative abilities? Sherry signaled that she was ready and the soldier opened the cabin door. Swallowing hard, she jolted forward and found herself in the sky. The helicopter disappeared behind her and the Altimeter ticked off the distance to the ground. It beeped every ten meters she fell but was wired into the insertion kit, so Sherry wouldn't have to pill the cord. Ten meters was on her soon enough and the kit shot out beneath her. She hit the bag with a thud and rolled off. She was winded and it took a few seconds for her to fill her lungs again, but she was otherwise okay. Next time she would risk the bullets.

Sherry picked herself up and checked her coordinates; she was mere feet from Jake's last known location, "Let's see what you've got, Junior."

* * *

Chris waited at the rendezvous point with the rest of his men. His current partner, Piers Nivans, was a good man, but there was an inevitable distance between them. He had not truly trusted anyone since before Kijuju, and Chris was not sure he ever could again. Still, he had a job to do, and he meant to do it. Work was all Chris had now, his apartment was empty most of the year, and his bank account got bigger with every paycheck he didn't spend. Meals ready to expel were provided by the BSAA on mission, and Chris was mainly sustained by beer and Chinese in the rare times he was off duty. He lived alone when not on mission and had several psych evals that suggested his need for adrenaline and danger was bordering on unhealthy. Chris chuckled to himself, bullets and bioweapons unhealthy; that just could not be.

The gate at the end of the street, swung open and a small framed blonde jogged through it. She was followed by a larger, familiar man, with a scar on his left cheek. Seconds passed before he recognized the woman as the girl from all those years back. He had seen her picture in her dossier when Simmons submitted the plan Chris had coerced. Simmons wanted to turn Sherry into an agent of the government, and initially Chris was against it. After all, the girl had seen enough for three lifetimes, she deserved a rest. Simmons was intent on keeping Sherry an 'asset', his words.

She had grown from the gangly teenage girl in that manila folder. She had cut her blonde locks into a short boyish cut that wasn't dissimilar from the time she spent in Raccoon city. The jacket was the first thing Chris recognized. Claire had been almost beside herself when she found the jacket; it was a celebration present for Sherry's graduation from training. Chris thought it looked a little plain when he first saw it, but it was, apparently, from a hard to find designer. Skin tight thermal leggings and knee high boots completed the ensemble, but her eyes were what drew Chris's attention. Those radiant blue orbs were alert and focused as she and her companion rushed forward to meet them. Involuntarily, Chris took a small step forward as to place himself at the front of the soldiers.

Sherry flipped open her badge, "Sherry Birkin, National Security." She announced like he didn't know who she was from the first moment he saw her.

"Sherry Birkin… you were in Raccoon." Chris stated

"How did you know that?" Sherry responded

"Claire."

Recognition lit in her eyes. She knew who he was. Claire must have told her about him, "Captain, that man is a wanted insurgent." Chris had barely seen the man that had followed Sherry into the open, but now he was leaning on a derelict car. That was until Piers pointed him out.

Sherry turned immediately to her companion and back again, "He's under my protection, and the protection of the United States government; he's no threat to the BSAA."

"Unless someone pays me to be." The kid quipped. Nobody caught it but Chris cracked a smile. He had balls to say something like that with a top ranked BSAA squad within feet of him. Chris could not shake the feeling that they had met before, but tried to focus on Sherry. She looked a little off put by the comment, but did not say anything.

Chris's radio crackled to life and mission control barked orders about the anti-air guns near by. They became occupied when Chris was dealing with Sherry and her companion. What was worse was the massive B.O.W that the insurgents dropped from a helicopter. Just as Chris was going to give the orders, Sherry signaled that she and Jake would take care of the B.O.W. while Chris took care of the guns. Chris resisted as he gave the order for his squad to plant the explosives. He did not want the girl, rescued from Raccoon City in harms way, but she would not back down.

When it was over, Sherry managed to destroy two B.O.W.s with only minor help from Jake and the BSAA. She was no longer the little girl Chris had rescued from the clutches of experimentation. She was a warrior in her own right. He provided the BSAA pilot the extraction coordinates and left the transport, that was meant his squad, for Jake and Sherry to take. Still something nagged at Chris about Jake.

* * *

It was finally over, it was six months and a trip to China in the making, but the bio-terrorism threat was over. At least it had ended for now; until the next omnicidal maniac created a new strain of the first virus. Chris was tired as he bobbed in the escape pod. If there was any justice in the world, he would die in the middle of the ocean. Maybe then he could rest, maybe then he could meet his maker and just be _done_.

Chopper blades sounded over the otherwise quiet ocean. For a moment, Chris thought… hoped that it was his imagination, but then the sound got stronger. To his left side he noticed a blinking green light, the distress signal. Either there was no justice in this world or his maker was not finished with him. Chris stood from his laying position and walked to the edge of the escape pod. Seconds passed before the waves repositioned the capsule so that he could see the helicopter. Almost hanging from its side, Sherry waved at the vessel as if doing so would call Chris into the aircraft and to safety. He couldn't help but laugh, Sherry had gone from damsel, to warrior, to rescuing him from welcome oblivion.

* * *

_**Author's Note: Just filler for now, I wanted to get the minds behind Chris and Sherry out in the open, and to do that I had to rehash some of the game. I hope no one minds. Please Review.**_


	3. Chapter 2: The Huntsman

_**Disclaimer: All characters, likenesses, and locations are property of Capcom and their respective owners. **_

Rescuee

Chapter 2: The Huntsman

"You're benching me?" Chris yelled, "You can't bench me." The director of the BSAA, a man Chris helped appoint, was being a dick. The Director's case was strong and he had support from several high-ranking officers, including the chief psychiatric officer. She was a woman who had recommended that Chris take leave since the Kijuju incident. 'Increasingly irrational and borderline suicidal' were the exact words she had used to describe him. Apparently, someone had listened.

"You didn't pass your psych eval, Chris, and you know it."

"Fuck the psych evals, what you're doing is forcing me into retirement."

"No we're not—"

"Uh, indefinite leave sure sounds like early retirement."

"Anyone would need some time off after all you've been through. Take this for what it is, Chris, an all expenses paid vacation."

"Listen to me, you self-righteous prick, I don't know what kind of power play you've got up your sleeve—"

"That's enough, Chris. Now you're going to take a vacation, whether you like it or not. When you feel better, talk to Abigail and we'll see if you _are_ truly better." The line went dead. The director liked to name drop, and he was on first name basis with the chief psychiatric officer. All evaluations had to go through her, and she had taken a particular interest in Chris. She was always finding something new wrong with him, and Chris hated it.

"That woman hates me." Chris growled as he punched the end call button on his phone, and tossed it at his apartment wall. The phone stuck into the sheet rock like a dart thrown at a dart board. It hung there for a while and then dropped to the floor next to the stand he had always intended to put a television on. As it stood, there was only a single picture frame, and he had almost forgotten it was there.

Chris walked to the picture and picked it up. The frame contained happier times, after the Queen Zenobia, when they were together, before Kijuju. Some photographer had petitioned them for a photo at a state fair they had passed through on leave. The brunette had jumped on Chris's back to get him to loosen up. It was also the last vivid memory he had that could be remotely associated with 'fun'. Now, that particular brunette was a source of stress for him, and the reason they benched him, at least in a round about way. When she left, she might as well have ripped his heart out better than any B.O.W. could have. Not that he would admit it.

Chris turned the photo face down and moved to the middle of his apartment, "Vacation, huh." Chris had no idea where to start.

* * *

Sherry kicked her foot restlessly, she was sitting at the table they always sat at. Claire was late for their night out and Sherry swirled her beer. Servers always asked for her identification when she ordered something alcoholic. Drinking alcohol was an exercise in futility. Her ability to heal prevented her from even getting buzzed, but the taste of some was worth the money. Claire plopped down on the other side of the booth startling the blonde out of her reverie, "I gotta say. You choose Applebees one more time… I'm revoking your turns, all of them." Claire snipped

"I'm sorry." Sherry responded

"What's wrong, blondie?"

"I met your brother." Sherry had been thinking about Chris since they caught a plane back to the States. He had a defeat to him, one that seemed like it was going to take him to his grave sooner rather than later.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"I'm worried about him." Sherry replied truthfully. Claire turned as if looking for the waiter. She was trying to hide the look of understanding that crept across her features, "Claire, you're worried too. Tell me what you know. What's going on with him?"

Claire paused. She was going to feign checking the menu, but decided that would have been rude. Claire's mouth opened and closed several times before starting. Claire brushed the bangs out of her eyes, "Chris has had it rough the past few years." She took a sip of her water, "How much do you know about the Kijuju incident?"

Sherry thought. She had read every report she could get her hands on when she was released. However, the BSAA kept a tight lid on their intel. Agents with Sherry's level of clearance could not get their hands on much, "I know he was dispatched to Kijuju, chose to go alone, but was assigned a partner, Sheva or Shiva something?"

"Correct so far, but he found someone in Africa. Someone he had almost given up on." Claire almost said the name, but chose not to, "He found his partner."

"I thought she was dead." Sherry gasped

"Worse."

Sherry didn't want to think about what could be worse than death; she had been down that road personally, "Is she alright?" Sherry wondered

"No one knows, shortly after Chris brought her back she… well… us outsiders aren't really sure what happened. She was just gone, and Chris didn't go looking. That, coupled with him losing everyone in Edonia and China, Chris is barely holding himself together." Claire sighed as she waved the waiter down and ordered a bottle of vodka. Thinking about her brother's problems was weighing on her too, and Sherry could see the frustration on her surrogate sister's face. Sherry might have pushed too hard.

Sherry leaned in, "Would you mind if we rescheduled?"

"You can," Claire chirped, "I've got some drinking to do."

Sherry waited until Claire was a few drinks deep, and led her to a cab outside. Sherry paid the tab, and gave the cabbie directions with an extra hundred to make sure she got home without detour. In the parking lot, Sherry stopped at Claire's sport bike, made sure all the locks were in place, and made sure the Lojack was on. Sherry then moved to her bike, a Honda Valkyrie FC6, and turned the key to start it. She had bought the machine on nudging from Claire to buy a sport bike. Crotch rockets were fine, but any length time spent flat-out on them began to hurt. China had taught her at least that much. Sherry found the Valkyrie much more comfortable, its mute coloring and polished chrome did not hurt either.

The motor warm, she pulled out of the restaurant parking lot and rolled down the street. She stopped at the first stop light and paused. If she took a left, she would be headed to her empty apartment and would have to deal with the dull ache of worry for her friend's brother. If she stayed straight, she could check on said brother, and try to help. Sherry did not know what she could do to help, but had to try. The light turned green and the Valkyrie moved forward without turning.

Sherry passed the apartment building twice before summoning the courage to head up to the entrance. She knocked on the door, "Chris, Hello? It's Sherry Birkin." No response, "Chris, are you alright?" Still Sherry got no response. Curiosity mixed with worry as she told herself that he was probably just out. However, something kept her from leaving, so Sherry checked the window. The corner of the window had a curtain that hung just enough to the side for Sherry to peek in. Chris was on the floor of his apartment, passed out. Sherry might have been tempted to think he was just sleeping off a bender had he not been in a pool of vomit, and gagging as if he could not breathe, "God, no." Sherry rushed to the door and kicked it. When it did not give the first time, she kicked it again. One last kick, she summoned everything she had to give, and the door flew off of its hinges.

Sherry limped toward the unconscious soldier, she must have torn a ligament but it would heal soon enough. She checked his breathing, it was slow and irregular. His skin was blue and he was cold to the touch. Sherry had never encountered alcohol poisoning before, but this was how she learned to recognize it. Sherry rolled Chris on his side, and made sure his air passage was clear. She could not remember if she should to induce vomiting or not, but with the way he was gagging she decided not to. He might aspirate into his lungs if she induced vomiting. The only thing left was to call someone who could help. Sherry pulled her phone and dialed '911', "Hello, my friend's been poisoned, uh… alcohol poisoned, I think, please send an ambulance." She yelled into the phone.

* * *

The dull hum of machines kept in rhythm with the steady beep of the heart monitor. Confused, Chris slowly realized where he was. He was in a hospital. He tried to shift his weight but that the pain in his chest prevented him. He scanned the room and recognized it. It was the same room that he had used on several occasions. Usually it was for a member of Alpha squad when they needed a place to rest after surgery, or the administering of bio-terrorism counter agents. Chris groaned as he realized… the BSAA paid for its upkeep.

He looked around the room and found all the regular things one would find in a hospital room: television, nurse call button, a cute blonde sleeping in the chair next to his bed. Chris was not back to one hundred percent, but he realized the last one was not on the list of every hospital room. It was not even on the list for a BSAA managed hospital room. Typically, there was a burly, fatigue dressed soldier sitting in that chair. Chris had been that soldier several times. His mind cleared and his eyes focused. She was short and lithe with a pair of slacks and those knee-high boots she had worn in Edonia. The tank top she had on looked borrowed and was hanging loose on one side. She shifted as the room door opened, and an auburnette in jeans and a zipped up motorcycle jacket walked in, "Chris." Claire set the coffee on the table.

"How long have I been out?" his throat was horse and it hurt to talk almost as much as his chest did.

"What the hell, Chris." Claire was not yelling, but that did not convince his head to stop pounding with every one of her words. He got the feeling she was keeping her voice down for Sherry.

"I don't know what happened."

"You got alcohol poisoning, dumbass."

"Alcohol poisoning? I didn't even—"

"What did you get into, huh? You _know_ alcoholism runs in our family." Claire's voice was getting louder, "You know what happened to mom and dad."

"Claire."

"How could you threaten to leave me—"

"Claire I—"

"Of all the stupid, asinine, moronic—"

"Claire, I had a couple of beers." Two beers exactly, Chris had finished his first beer when he started warming to the idea of a vacation. He was out for a while, and had contemplated retirement once, so why not think about it again?

"I don't believe you." She left the room, probably to get the toxicology report, but when she did, she shut the door a little too hard. Sherry jolted upright and wiped her mouth. That was when she realized Chris was awake.

"Chris, you're alright." She rushed to his side and leaned on his bed, Chris turned his head away. She had leaned forward enough that he could tell she was not wearing a bra.

"Sherry, did something happen to your shirt?"

Sherry realized her state of undress and straightened herself, "Uh, yeah… you kinda puked on it. One of the nurses loaned this to me." Sherry took a handful of the shirt and pulled it behind her. She tied a knot in the fabric and the tank top tightened against her lean frame. Chris had seen the technique before, on his sister. It was decidedly less attractive on his blood relation.

"I'm sorry about your shirt." Chris apologized

"I've got more." Sherry sat on the bed, "Chris, what happened?"

"I don't know. I just got off a call with the BSAA's director and needed to calm down. I grabbed a beer from my fridge and downed it. I started thinking about a vacation. I grabbed a second one from the fridge and started looking at resorts. I don't remember much after that."

"So you only had two beers?"

"Yeah, I think they were eight percent alcohol. With my size and… history, I shouldn't have blacked out on two beers."

"Did anything stand out about the beers?"

"Yeah," Chris drawled, "now that I think about it, that second beer had a metallic taste to it."

* * *

Claire stomped through the hall; she was going to call Chris out on his lies. Not that she had any right to do so. Claire did not drink often, but when she did, it was bad. She had always been the heavy drinker between them. Chris was more of a social drinker, and even then he would not get so drunk he needed a cab to get home. Claire liked the oblivion that came with alcohol, and was in the throb of malt liquor hangover. She had almost slept through Sherry's call, and her bike was still at Applebees. She knew it was hypocritical of her, but she was just so mad, at her brother, at her parents, but mostly at herself. That she could survive a bender, and he could die on two beers.

The lab had a sign on it that read: 'Back in sixty'. Claire pushed the doors open and walked in. A man in a white lab coat stood at the counter. He was the only person in the facility, which was a little odd. He turned to her and put a folder on the sub-counter in front of him, "Can't you read?" He snapped.

"I'm looking for Chris Redfield's toxicology report."

"Who are you?"

"Claire Redfield," she pulled her credentials from her pocket, "Terra Save, I have reason to believe that my brother's current state is related to an impending bio-terrorism event."

"Really," the man gasped, "you don't think it's going to happen here?"

"I don't know, but the toxicology report would help."

The man moved a few steps back and waved at her, "Follow me; I'll go get it for you."

Claire moved passed the counter after the man as he led her deep into the backrooms. The complete lack of staff other than the man was beginning to wear on her nerves. Where was everybody? Claire looked down at the man's shoes. They were uncomfortable and polished to a shine that no self-respecting lab tech would have to time to worry about. Suspicious, Claire probed for information, "Where is everybody?"

"Oh, the lab manager's birthday party, the suck ups."

"And you got stuck on duty? That sucks."

"I volunteered, we don't get along." He turned and motioned for Claire to come closer as he checked the files they had stopped in front of. His coat brushed a little too far out and revealed a holster with a Beretta 9 millimeter latched into it.

The instant Claire saw the firearm; the man knew and reached for it. Claire grabbed the man's wrist and twisted her hips. With the jerk of her arms and the momentum from the turn, her attacker slammed to the ground. This did not stop him for long as Claire found her legs kicked into the air by the man on the ground. She led her fall so that she landed beside him. He swung an elbow at her face and connected, but not without a counter blow from Claire. He rolled on top of her and pulled his gun from its holster. The silencer it was equiped with glinted in the florescent light. The man grinned lecherously as he circled the barrel around her left breast and then pressed it to her forehead. Claire growled as her arms remained pinned. He was sitting high enough that she was able to bring her lower half up and latch her ankles around his neck. She pulled him off her and knocked the gun from his hand. He freed himself and Claire scrambled for the gun. She got to it, turned and pulled the trigger. The fire arm let out an impotent click. Claire could not understand why it didn't fire. The gun was loaded and the safety was off, but on the side of the grip a small, red LED light blinked.

Claire looked up from the gun and caught a closed fist to the cheek. Any other woman would have been knocked out by the blow, but Claire had trained with Chris. His favorite form of martial arts was known as Krav Maga, and he had knocked her out with it in several sparring matches. This guy's punch dazed her, but she could and would fight on. Claire played the dazed damsel and her attacker relaxed. He moved for the gun and turned his back. Claire spun a kick into the side of his head and he dropped.

Several stale seconds passed as Claire waited for him to get up, but he did not. The adrenaline ebbed and Claire's body began to shake. That man was going to kill her had the chance been given. She attempted to drag herself toward the front and it became increasingly harder as damage from the fight began to take its toll. She pulled herself forward and checked the file the man had put on the counter: Chris Redfield.

_**Author's Note:**_** Thanks to those who've reviewed. I'm guessing this pairing is not all that popular and that's fine because I started it on a dare from a friend. Trust me; I have plans for Jill as well. Please review. **


	4. Chapter 3: Snow White and Rose Red

_**Disclaimer: All characters, likenesses, and locations are property of Capcom and their respective owners. **_

Rescuee

Chapter 3: Snow White and Rose Red

Sherry had not left Chris's side since he was admitted to the hospital with alcohol poisoning. In fact, he had chastised her for fretting over him. He was a grown man, had been in the hospital before, and probably would be again. Still, he was glad for the company. Chris had been alone for a long time, and while he tried to pretend it did not affect him, having someone to talk to was refreshing. They talked about what the blonde had done after Simmons. Once Sherry got out of the facility that held her prisoner, she went on a learning bender, and, as such, had an encyclopedia's worth of knowledge to talk about. She told Chris about the weeks spent in libraries, and getting lost in the reference section. She had a ravenous hunger for information and would often forget to eat on those outings. She was one tracked like that, Chris gathered.

Sherry probed for info the way most agents of the government, Leon included, did. She was indirect and slippery. The questions would be masked between beguiling stories, and charming banter, but he knew what she was doing, and Chris did not give her anything. How was he supposed to tell a girl, thirteen years his junior, that he was lonely? It would sound like a come on, she was just too young, and he did not know her like that.

About the time they finished one of their conversations a nurse walked into the room and smiled as she checked Chris's vitals. As she left, the nurse stopped at the door, "You have a very devoted daughter, Mister Redfield." Sherry shrank as the nurse left the room.

A slight pink tinged her cheeks, "Daughter?" Chris questioned

The pink went full red, "That, um, must've been Claire. I thought it was strange they hadn't thrown me out yet."

Chris's expression stiffened, "Look, Sherry, I appreciate the company, but you must have some place to be." Chris liked the girl but she did not need to be spending so much time with him. She probably had work responsibilities, friends, a boyfriend; things to do that were missing her. Yet she sat there, waiting for him to get better. She should just leave him to his solitude and worry about her own life.

"Nope." Sherry responded as her expression soured slightly and then right back to the bright girl she was, "I, uh, have a _lot_ of vacation time."

"You must have a boyfriend or something, right? What will he think when he finds out you've been with a middle-aged man all night?"

Sherry's expression soured once more, "No… no boyfriend." Her voice got quiet, "I haven't…" Sherry straightened herself and put on an emotional mask, "I haven't been able to connect with anyone, but Claire, since Raccoon. My apartment's kinda like yours actually… except, _I_ have a TV," Sherry smiled, Chris chuckled, "and an Xbox."

"Oh really." Chris knew that tone; it was the one he had gotten when _that_ woman left. It meant that Sherry was just as lonely as He was and was trying to hide it. Chris renewed his smile, "Maybe I'll come over and play a game with you some time."

"All I have is Kinectimals." Sherry smiled. It was the first un-coached smile Chris had seen on her face, and probably stemmed from the vision of Chris playing with a virtual tiger. Sherry began to giggle as the image took root. Soon they were sharing the first real laugh either of them had had in years. Chris cringed as his ribs protested the chuckle and Sherry almost got out of her chair. It was just fatigued muscle pain, brought on from the hours of involuntary contractions that come with vomiting. Chris took a good gander at his benefactor. She was small framed with the look of underage if the wrong light caught her. Despite her size, Sherry was healthy and strong, like she had not been sick a day in her life.

About that time the door to the room opened and Claire entered. Her steps were quiet and measured as she took great care to shut the door without a sound. Chris was about to ask her what was going on when she turned around. The beginnings of battle damage revealed itself on her face. Claire's eye was already swelling shut, "What the hell happened?" Chris growled. Nobody gets to hurt his sister without getting their face caved in.

Claire moved to the machines Chris was hooked up to and took great care to shut them off in a way that would not alert the nurses, "I'll tell you later. We need to leave."

"Claire, what's going on?" Sherry questioned.

"I'll tell you two later, we need to leave _now_." Claire was rarely serious, so when she used the tone she had, Chris knew it was time to shut up and do as he was told. He reached for the wires and electrodes and pulled them off. With Sherry's help, he removed the IV and swung his legs over the side of the bed, "Stay here." Claire left the room and returned shortly there after with jacket, pants, and a hat in Chris's size. Claire motioned for him to put the clothes on and, with no regard to his roommates, began to strip out of his hospital gown. Sherry hastened toward the window to keep watch, and away from the show Chris was putting on.

Chris pulled the pants on, zipped up the jacket, and placed the hat on his head. If this was going to work he was going to need to act like he was not in pain, "Sherry, I'm going to need your help."

Sherry turned around, "Anything."

"I'm going to need you to hide the odd wince I do."

"How do I hide _you_?"

"I can stand and fake most of it, but the pain's going to catch me by surprise and I'm going to need hide it, come here."

"Uh, sure." Sherry agreed as she moved closer to Chris. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into him. Her tiny body was dwarfed by his sheer size as he stood up. Soon she was supporting some of his weight with her arm wrapped around his back, and her hand in his chest. Chris lifted himself up and cocked his body so as to look like some douche-bag making a public display of affection with his girlfriend.

"Ok, coast is as clear as it's going to be," Said Claire, "let's go."

* * *

Chris was heavy, heavier than Sherry expected him to be. Even though he did not look like he was leaning on her, Chris was transferring a little more weight than she was prepared for. He was a good five inches taller than her at least, and had the kind of frame that she could disappear behind. She had never been this close to any man before. Jake wanted to be close; Sherry could almost smell it on him. He had even tried to talk her into his bed shortly after they escaped China. What he felt for her was based on adrenaline and danger. That was no way to start a relationship, and he was not the type to stay put for more than a month or two.

Chris winced as he took a step toward the elevator. Claire was in the lead with Sherry and Chris following behind. It was subtle, but Sherry could tell that every step Chris took was a battle to maintain his composure. The bell gave a ding and the doors opened. In it were two men. They both had black suits and polished shoes. Claire hesitated and Sherry could tell that she recognized them. One of the elevator's occupants motioned for them to get on but Claire waved them off, "We'll get the next one."

"Nonsense." One of the black suits responded.

Sherry knew Claire's expressions, and she was trying to conceal the fact that these men troubled her, "That's fine," Sherry chimed, "We'll wait."

One of the men groaned and reached into his suit. Chris broke from Sherry and grabbed the man's hand. He twisted the appendage the tiny bones in the man's wrist broke. A silenced Beretta nine millimeter fell out of the man's coat and clacked loudly as it slid out of the elevator. Sherry saw the second suit pull the same weapon from his jacket. She was too slow to pull off what Chris had, but she had the dexterity and knowledge she needed to strip the pistol. In a quick flick of movement, Sherry pulled the slide from the grip causing the firing pin to fall to the ground. She tossed the gun part into the suit's face and kicked him in the chest. She tapped the button for the top floor and popped back out as the elevator doors closed, "We won't have much time; we need to get out of here." Claire picked up the Beretta and rushed toward the stairs. Sherry and Chris followed.

Chris pulled the hat from his head and tossed it down, "I hate hats." The trio rushed down the stairs. Chris was a little more careful than the girls, but matched their pace. Near the bottom Chris let out a pained gasp and clutched his ribs. He stepped a little too wide to make the next step down. He would have fallen the rest of the first floor flight had Sherry not caught him, "Thanks."

"Yeah." Sherry responded

"Move." Claire yelled.

Sherry and Chris followed Claire to the exit. Just as they were about to leave the hospital, two more black suits entered the hall at the other end. They must have been informed that the trio had resisted because they pulled their guns and began firing. Claire pulled a Beretta she must have stolen when sherry was not looking and attempted to return fire. The gun clicked. Their attackers had removed their silencers so the first two shots caused the sparse hospital personnel to drop out of the line of fire. Chris and Sherry moved toward the door as Claire jerked violently with a scream. She caught one of the slugs to the shoulder, and was now bleeding profusely, "Son of a bitch." Claire cursed as she stabilized her balance, and pushed Sherry and her brother through the doors.

Thinking quickly, Sherry ran to and commandeered a Chevrolet Blazer. She pulled the driver from the seat and tapped a nerve in his neck, "I'm sorry." Sherry opened the passenger side door as the driver fell to the ground and screamed in pain. Chris and Claire jumped in and Sherry took the driver's seat. They sped toward the freeway and, for a moment, were able to breath.

Chris checked his sister's shoulder, he pulled her jacket to side and slipped her shoulder out of the tank top she had on underneath, "Good news."

"What?" Claire asked trough clenched teeth.

"It went clean through so there's nothing to fish out, and it looks like it didn't hit anything important."

"My shoulder _is_ important." Claire snapped as Chris applied pressure to the wound and a pressure point on her arm.

"Who were those guys?" Sherry yelled

"I don't know, but they were using government level tech." Claire winced as Chris pressed on the wound and found some duct tape on the floor, "the guns wouldn't fire in my hands."

"Seems like something out of a bond movie." Chris wrapped the duct tape around Claire's after he disinfected and loaded both entry and exit with ample bandages.

Sherry had seen something like that before. On one of the many screens she passed by in her time sequestered by the United States government. Her handlers would take her to research and development for testing and Sherry caught sight of designs for just such a gun. Her photographic memory kicked in and she saw that palm coding was not the only advancement for the gun, "Do you still have the gun?" Sherry questioned.

"Yeah."

"Toss it."

"What, why?"

"Toss it." Sherry screamed. Chris grabbed the gun and chucked it out the window. Only a moment passed before two more cars pulled in behind them, "It also had a tracer installed in the grip. Seatbelts Now." Sherry pulled the emergency brake, spun the wheel and the SUV swung ninety degrees. It threatened to topple but a second jerk of the steering wheel put the left side tires back on the ground. Sherry always had trouble with precision driving and only barely passed the test, but she was not going to let her passengers know that.

* * *

The engine revved as the Blazer tore across the park with reckless abandon. This girl was going to get them killed before their pursuers got the chance. Chris hopped into the passenger seat and motioned for Sherry to trade places with him, "You don't try and outrun someone with a Blazer, you bully them." Chris took the wheel as He and Sherry kept pressure on the gas pedal. This made for an awkward change of position. Sherry lifted herself up as Chris slid underneath her. When she released pressure on the gas pedal her buttocks fell into Chris's lap as she lost balance. Her slacks were made from thin material and tight in a way that they might have been a second skin. She shifted hastily and was in the side seat almost as soon as she hit Chris's lap.

Chris focused as they got back onto the street. The vehicles chasing them surged forward as he allowed them to catch up. They got close and one of the occupants aimed a gun out of the window. Before it could fire, Chris slammed the break and jerked the wheel. The Blazer dropped to their pursuer's rear bumper. The Chevy lurched to the side and slammed into the bumper. The pursuant car spun out of control and into a row of vehicles, flipped up and launched into the vacant shops, emptied for remodeling. The ensuing fire lit the night sky as the chase continued.

Chris had hoped that the second car would stop and make sure that the first's occupants were fine, no such luck. The second car opened fire. They were firing wildly and Chris thanked Jesus that there where no bystanders on the roads to be hit by stray bullets. The Blazer was, however, a large target and several of the windows shattered before the car behind them paused to reload. Then came the single, chambered bullet scored a hit on the front passenger side tire as Chris turned down an ally. The SUV toppled, rolled into the wall and spun deeper into passage. Claire, Sherry, and Chris were thrown from the vehicle. Sherry managed to cushion most of Claire's fall, but Claire's head still hit the ground and knocked her unconscious. Chris landed on his feet as skidded away from the car in a three point stance you might see on a football field. He was not looking at the girls, but he knew they were in bad shape.

Adrenaline shot through Chris's body, and the car parked at the entryway and revved its engine. Even with Sherry's healing ability, she would need time to recover, and Claire needed help now. Every fiber of his body was motivated to protect them, so when the car revved and sped toward him, Chris launched into a sprint toward the car. Chris growled as he connected with the car, pushed its front axle off of the ground and toppled it onto its cab, "Chris." Sherry's voice broke his protective haze. He turned and startled the tiny blonde, "What the hell?" she added.

**_Author's Note:_ Here it is, Sorry it took so long for me to get it out. I was recently inspired to pick up my book, and revise it for publication. That might be wishful thinking, but... you know... whatever. I plan this to be about ten chapters, so if you're interested please review.**


	5. Chapter 4: The Frog Prince

_**Disclaimer: All characters, likenesses, and locations are property of Capcom and their respective owners. **_

Rescuee

Chapter 4: The Frog Prince

Sherry watched Chris change. His once olive skin reddened as bumps like goose pimples poked out from his skin. What worried Sherry the most were his eyes. Chris's eyes changed from their natural color in to a living shade of topaz. The iris of each eye took on a wolf-like shape and his hair began to transform to a lighter shade than his natural brown. Sherry jolted as Chris lit aflame just like so many J'avo before, "No no no no." Sherry was not going to lose Chris to the C-virus, not when Claire's chances were in the pits. Sherry grabbed her contorted leg and twisted it back into its natural position, "Chris look at me." She entreated as the flames threatened to engulf him.

"Sher… …ry?" Chris mumbled.

Sherry picked herself up off the ground, and almost screamed as the pain her leg shot through her whole body. She was hurt, and the fact that she had not eaten much in the day and night that Chris had been in the hospital left her healing ability crippled, "Listen to me," She dragged herself to Chris, "Fight this. Chris you're stronger than this stupid virus." Amber-like goo began covering Chris's body, "Damn it, Chris, Fight. This is not how your story ends."

"Sherry… I—" Chris's voice was garbled and monstrous. What worried Sherry most, was that the fight, that natural will to live, was gone from his eyes. Chris was tired; Sherry could see it on him as amber covered most of Chris's body now and his arms.

"Sherry… I… I'm sorr…" The goo moved slowly up Chris's neck and Sherry could not do anything to stop it. She slapped and scraped at the amber, but as soon as she got some off more would take its place. Sherry was going to miss her chance. She was going to watch Chris turn into a monster. He would never know. They were never going to get the chance she wanted. So she followed her instinct and pressed her lips to Chris's. Resin engulfed him.

Sherry backed away from the statue that had once been her best friend's brother. It was grotesque and ugly, but what's more it was the end of opportunities. Sherry had missed any chances she had and mourned them almost as much as she mourned Chris directly. Grief would have to wait, Claire needed medical attention—

Chris's amber began to crack and splinter, but not in the typical way. Many J'avo sprouted from the back of the cocoon in a metamorphosed form that was completely different from their original. Chris's encasing was splintering evenly on all sides, as if he were fighting like Sherry had ordered him to. Sherry hoped that Chris would be the first to emerge unchanged but could not risk Claire's life. So she stood between Claire and the Chris. Moments passed as the cracks got larger. A dull hum came from the inside, and got louder. Suddenly, Chris erupted from the encasing with a guttural yell. He was naked but otherwise unchanged. He fell to his knees as he gasped for breath, "Chris?" Sherry called out, "Are you… still you?" He looked like he was normal.

"Sherry?" Chris choked

"Chris." relief washed over her as she threw her arms around him.

At that time, several more cars rounded the corner to the ally and blocked the entrance. Their headlights were on to ward off nighttime darkness. The beams of light also kept Sherry and Chris from seeing who they belonged to. Sherry collapsed from pain, and Chris repositioned himself between the girls and new cars. After a few moments and several people getting out, someone barked, "EMTs, focus on Claire and Agent Birkin." A single man walked out from the darkness so Chris could see him, "Chris, are you okay?"

"Kal?" Chris questioned as Sherry ignored the emergency medical technicians now fretting over her.

"Director Kallem," One of the technicians attending Claire yelled, "This one's in bad shape. She needs a hospital."

"Get her to the BSAA substation." The director responded, "We can't trust hospitals right now."

Sherry was getting pissed at the tech that was cleaning her wounds and setting her bones. He was rough and did not know about her healing ability. Claire needed his attention more. She grabbed the tech by his collar, "Just give me some glucose and go help Claire."

"…but ma'am you're hurt badly." The tech responded.

"I won't be if you'd just get me some damned sugar." Sherry hissed as the EMT rushed off. Sherry's eyes met Chris's as Director Kallem wrapped him in a thermal blanket.

* * *

It was the second time in a week that Chris had been in a medical station of some sort, but this time he was in the waiting room. He was alone, and in a standard BSAA uniform. Sherry had been taken for examination and treatment hours ago while Claire's fate was still unknown to him. He tapped his foot restlessly as he waited for some/any word from the doctors. After waiting for hours, Sherry turned the corner walking with a slight limp and chewing on a Snickers bar. Following her were two nurses pleading with her to go back to the bed she was in. Sherry ignored them, "Sherry." Chris called out as he stood up and ran to her, "Why are you up?" Sherry shooed the nurses as it was Chris's turn to help her walk.

"I finally got one of the doctors to listen, and hook me up to pure glucose. My body did the rest. Any word on Claire?"

"None." Chris slumped back down into the chair as Sherry sat beside him. She was clothed in a gown, like Chris before. The BSAA substation had a fully functional medical wing that was better equipped than most hospitals were. Moreover, it was designed to handle a city-wide biological outbreak and fully stocked with antivirals and medicine for all occasions. Director Kallem had even stated that he had the BSAA's top cross discipline doctor flown in for Claire. Needless to say, Chris was sorry he ever accused the director of ulterior motives.

"What was it like?" Sherry asked.

Chris snapped out of his thoughts, "What, Oh. Um… well. It's like your life is a barbed wire sweater with a loose string, and someone is not just pulling at it, but attached it to a jeep speeding away."

"Oh… um… do you remember what happened as you were changing?"

Chris turned to look Sherry in the eye, He remembered pain and weakness. He remembered how easy it was to give in and up. He remembered getting sleepy, and then he remembered something calling him back from his darkness. A reason to keep going, he remembered—

"Chris, Agent Birkin," A young woman in scrubs, a medical apron, and a mask walked into the waiting room. She removed her mask, and Chris recognized her immediately.

"Rebecca?" Chris yelled as he moved in for a hug, but Rebecca stopped him, "What happened? What happened to Claire?"

"Maybe you should sit back down."

"I'll stand."

"Chris, Claire was hurt badly. When her head hit the pavement there was severe damage done."

"Just hit me with it, Becky."

"Claire has severe cerebral edema. Basically, her brain is swollen and pressing against her skull. Now we've done everything we can to check the swelling, but it will take some time and close monitoring…" Chris did not like where Rebecca's story was going and he lost track of the details as he fell back in to the chair, "Chris, listen to me. If half the stories I've heard about Claire are true, then she's survived worse."

When he was not looking, Director James R. Kallem had walked in behind Rebecca. He too was dressed in the same medical gear as Rebecca was. James had a background in surgery, and went hands on until Rebecca could get there and take over, "Claire's in a room now," Director Kallem started as he thanked Rebecca, "but before you go see her, there's something I need to talk to you about."

"Can it wait?" Sherry asked as she sat back down next to Chris.

"It's about your toxicology report."

"Get on with it, Kal." Chris snapped

"We ran your sample through our spectrometers, and... well... we found traces of the T-veronica virus in your body. This wouldn't have been a problem if there weren't also traces of an inducer catalyst. Like Jill and the T-virus, and your own experiences Agent Birkin, Chris, you developed anti-bodies to the T-veronica virus you contracted in the battle with Alexia Ashford. I believe that's why your body changed after Antarctica."

"I told you I hadn't taken steroids," Chris sighed, "but how is that possible? Both of them had anti-virals administered to them, Kal." Chris asked.

"I would imagine from your various encounters with Albert Wesker, and your sometimes frequent… uh… fluid exchanges with Jill Valentine, some of their immunities passed on to you." Chris tensed up at Jill's name. He had avoided thoughts of her as much as possible, but now was especially bad. He did not know why he wanted his sexual relationship with his former partner kept quiet; it was not as if it were a secret. None-the-less, Chris pushed the conversation forward.

"Can we get back to the Inducer catalyst?" Sherry asked.

"Someone administered an enzyme that, alone, breaks down in the system. However, if it is added to a person such as yourself—" The Rebecca explained

"—it activates dormant viruses." Sherry completed.

Chris stood once more, "If they pin-pointed a way to start with the viruses in a dormant state and activate them at a time of their choosing—"

"They could create bioweapon sleeper cells." Rebecca finished, "We wouldn't have even known to look for the catalyst had Claire not gone for the toxicology report and recognized certain theoretical ingredients. She called Terrasave and they called the BSAA."

Director Kallem cut in, "Chris, do I have to ask for your help?"

"Whoever they are, Kal, they went after my sister. I was going after them with or without the BSAA." Chris growled.

"Good, I've got Gamma squad interrogating the survivor of the attack now. We should have something by tomorrow morning."

"Why isn't Alpha squad on the interrogation?" Chris inquired.

"Honestly," director Kallem stood, "because you haven't reformed it yet. Alpha is your baby, Chris. It doesn't exist without you."

"Then the first order of business is Alpha squad. Becky, are you up?" Chris looked at the younger medic turned first class doctor.

"Absolutely." She replied as Chris turned to Sherry.

"I need a partner. What do you think? Will the NSA loan you to the BSAA?"

"I'll convince my bosses." Sherry smiled.

"That leaves ten open spots." Kallem continued.

"No. If I'm going to do this, the squad's going to be small. Sherry and I will be the only field operatives. I'm not going to risk the lives of anyone who hasn't already survived an end of the world scenario. Right now, though, I want to see my sister."

* * *

Claire was more tube and wire than person when he checked on her. She might as well have been strapped to the bed. Bandages marked the injuries from the concrete she landed on. Chris saw that the doctors had shaved off almost all of her auburn hair. The heart monitor beeped in rhythm with the respirator she had been put on to normalize her breathing. It was heartbreaking to see his baby sister in this condition. They were young when their parents died. Now Claire was fighting for her life as the result of almost the exact situation that led to their parents's death. Chris remembered when he was left with a twelve year old girl and a need to be home, not in the air force. He was discharged when he got into a particularly nasty verbal altercation with his, then, superior. He had transferred to a state-side base so that Claire would not have to uproot her life. When he was discharged, they drifted. He spent time doing lots of different things, but eventually settled in Raccoon as apart of S.T.A.R.S.

When Claire graduated high school at seventeen, Chris had hard time letting her go, even if it was to Dartmouth. Luckily, Claire agreed to help him pay for her college, and Raccoon happened a year later. She survived Raccoon, Rockfort Island, Antarctica, and Harvardville with only smatterings of help here and there. To think that she would be in this condition after… after… "Listen baby sister, I know how you hate me calling you that. I guess you'll just have to get better so you can kick my ass. I need to leave you for a little bit. I'm going to find the people who did this, and I'm going to put them in the ground." Chris paused, and leaned on the side of her bed as his eyes began water, "Please, Please don't leave me, baby sister. I couldn't handle it. I'd break."

* * *

Sherry watched from behind a glass window much like the one she had grown up in front of. One of their pursuers was sitting in the room. He was in obvious need of medical attention, but was in no danger of death. He had been given just enough medical attention, under the guise of torture, that he would and could live a healthy strong life. The BSAA did not engage in the known methods of torture. They were the good guys after all. One of Gamma squad, a man by the name of Mason Meyer, entered shortly after the doctor left. He was a clean-shaven man with a robust size and a wild but intelligent glint in his eye. He spoke with a light but distinct southern accent. The interrogation had gone almost nowhere until Mason entered and even then it took nearly an hour. Mason was mostly quiet inside, sometimes asking a non-sequitur question or doing something to make the prisoner feel uncomfortable. Then, when he was ready, asked what he needed, "Tell you what," Mason started, "Give me the name of your boss, you know the one who told you to go after Chris, and we'll go out and get some jello-shots, tequila, maybe a few hotties. Oh and you a doctor, I guess."

"I told you I'm not saying anything to you." The prisoner replied.

"Now," Mason pulled his side arm, "That makes me angry, horribly, terribly angry." Mason pointed his gun at the wall behind the prisoner and pulled the trigger three times. Three shots bounced off of the wall. One grazed the prisoner's leg, one Mason's arm, at which he did not flinch, and the final lodged into the glass in front of Sherry. The Shells ejected into the prisoner's cheek. Mason buried the hot barrel into the skin on his own neck. Sherry gasped and covered her mouth as she heard the flesh sizzle, "Ahh, much better." Mason smiled.

"I don't know his name, alright. We just do what we're told."

"I'm not liking what I'm hearing." Mason moved so that he was nose to nose with the prisoner.

"556 Rolento St. It's were we got our orders." the prisoner screamed.

_**Author's Note:**_** Thanks to those who've read and reviewed, I really appreciate it. I didn't really expect to get enough reviews to keep me from loosing interest in this story, but lo and behold. I was really trying to avoid the use of original characters, they never seem to get fully fleshed in fanfiction or become Mary Sues/Marty Stus. However, I couldn't find the name of the current BSAA director, and I needed a comic relief character. The story was just getting too dramatic. Please Review**


	6. Chapter 5: Sigurd

_**Disclaimer: All characters, likenesses, and locations are property of Capcom and their respective owners. **_

Rescuee

Chapter 5: Sigurd

Chris shifted his weight, careful not to disturb the woman sleeping beside him, as he pushed the covers aside. They had been going at it like rabbits for the past twelve hours, and he was in desperate need of food and a shower. He turned to look at the blonde on the usually unoccupied side of the bed. For the first time in a long time Chris was… content. Chris sat down next to her and brushed her hair behind her ear. She stirred but did not wake up. She had been through enough in the passed few days; she did not need to wake up. Chris's stomach growled as he stepped quietly into the kitchen of his spartan apartment. He did not bother to put on any clothes; she would probably want them off of him as soon as she awoke.

His refrigerator was all but empty aside from the left over Chinese they had for dinner the night before. Slim hands worked their way around his waist, "Chris, what are you doing?"

"I'm looking for food, you harpy. Aren't you hungry?"

"Sure I am." Her hands moved south from his waist. He grabbed them and pulled them apart as he turned around.

"I get it," He started, "this is some elaborate plot to kill me. You're trying to suck me dry." She cocked an eyebrow, "unfortunate choice of words."

"I haven't seen you in two years. I haven't had a thought of my own in _two years_. Can you blame me for wanting to catch up?"

"Jill, you're home now. We can take our time. We can catch up slowly."

"As long as _slowly_ doesn't include us."

"_We_ can go as fast as you want."

"Not too fast, now." Jill pulled Chris back toward the bedroom with a lecherous grin.

Chris snapped out of his reverie as Sherry tapped him on the shoulder. They were about to breach the entrance to 556 Rolento Street. Intelligence had detected upwards of five possible assailants inside from heat signatures. Mason slapped the direction charges on the hinges of the door and waited for Chris's go ahead. Chris motioned for him move forward as Sherry pulled the pin on two flash grenades. A couple of small pops blew the warehouse door off of its frame as Sherry chucked the grenades inside. Mason followed Sherry with smoke grenades. All three pulled their masks down and rushed in with their SIG556 rifles drawn, "BSAA, drop your weapons and get down on your stomachs." Sherry yelled through her mask. There were only a few of them, but no one dropped their weapons, despite their blindness. The engagement was more of a massacre than a fight. When the few enemies that were there, drew their weapons Sherry, Chris and Mason opened fire. The battle lasted all of a few seconds.

"Damn it." Mason yelled as the bullets stopped flying.

"I think we got all of them." Sherry added as she checked the first of the dead. They were clothed in standard garb and had no defining marks of any kind.

Mason ran over to the second, then third, "No survivors."

Chris checked the last two, "Same here." He leaned on his knee and looked at the two younger members of Alpha squad as the smoke cleared.

"I'm good, Boss, but I don't think I can get dead men talking." Mason sighed.

"They probably didn't know anything anyway." Chris added.

"The computers might," Sherry plugged a USB wireless receiver into the terminal on the computer and tapped her headset, "Ashley, can you get us into this thing?"

"'Can you get us into this thing' she asks. I may not be worth much in a fight, but there isn't a computer on this planet that won't spread its l—" Ashley paused, "Okay… um… give me a second." Ashley Graham liked to talk a big game. Being the daughter of a former president and survivor of a kidnapping attempt by bio-terrorists will do that to a person. Her dossier detailed Ashley's time after the Las Plagas incident: she was welcomed home, entered a self betterment phase, and, almost, utterly failed at it. The girl tried to turn herself into a killing machine. She attempted to learn several martial arts: Wu Shu, Karate, Krav Maga, and was drummed out of all of them. Ashley turned to weapons, but never quite grasped their use either. This led to her self destructive phase, high-lighted by drug and alcohol abuse. This portion of her life read like a suicide attempt, but out of her darkness came an affinity for machines and computers. She got a taste of the good she could do, and got hooked. She crossed paths with the BSAA and got on director Kallem's radar. She re-tasked a Russian assault drone to help a group of BSAA soldiers that were pinned by Edonian bio-terrorists, "Got it."

"Are we in?" Chris wondered.

"We're in and I've already ghosted the contents onto a separate drive. Now let's… bazinga." Ashley laughed as the computer screen's picture tore. The warehouse's terminal lit up and the massive computer started to load the operating system, "You guys see what you can find and I'll start cutting this frog open." The com buzzed and Ashley went silent as a large red and white umbrella appeared on screen.

"Oh Fu—" Mason swore under his breath.

"That's not possible." Sherry turned to Chris, "That's not possible, right?"

Chris moved to the terminal without a word and began trying to get deeper into the files on the terminal. After only a few presses of the buttons the screen turned black and red. Every entrance dropped a shutter in place of the door and a message appeared on the screen:

_Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?_

"What the hell?" Mason wondered, "Now computers need directions? Boss, I get the feeling it's just looking for a reason to go Skynet on us."

"Wait, where have I seen this before?" Sherry wondered as she tapped finger against her chin. Chris typed in a response. The computer let out a hateful buzz as an ominous beeping began. "Here let me." Sherry moved to the keyboard. Chris and Mason ran to the exits and tried to get them open.

"What's going on, guys?" Ashley clicked back on to their headsets.

"Reinforced shutters have dropped and I don't have enough C4 to take one out to dinner, let alone blow it." Mason quipped as a heavy mist rolled into the warehouse, "Skynet's planning to off us." The computer let out an annoyed beep and repeated the message:

_Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?_

"I'll try to hack in." Ashley offered

"No, wait. I've got this." _That depends a good deal on where you want to get to. _Sherry typed and hit enter.

_I don't much care where_

The mist began to rise quicker as Sherry tapped her foot, "Sherry." Chris hurried his partner.

"I know, I know. What was the second part?" Sherry tapped her head as the mist was quickly approached her collar bone. She snapped on her mask, as did Chris and Mason, but they did not know what kind of gas it was and the masks had sensitive filters on them. If the mist was even mildly acidic, the masks would not hold up for long. _Then it doesn't matter which way you go, _Sherry finished and hit enter. For a moment the mist lingered but did not climb. Then the exhaust fans kicked on and the shutters slid open. "Lewis Carroll - Alice in wonderland." Sherry smiled.

"I could kiss you." Mason cheered.

"Don't." Sherry waved him off as Chris walked to the terminal and touched his ear piece.

"Ashley, have you got everything you need from this machine?" Chris asked.

"Sure do." Ashley responded

"Good," He turned to Mason and Sherry, "Everybody, out of this death trap. We're going home." Sherry and Mason shuffled out of the door they came in, "Becky," Chris tapped his com, "Call in the cleaning crew." Rebecca made a noise of compliance, the kind that meant they were going to have a talk later.

* * *

The base Alpha team had been assigned to, was a repurposed fire house, and it was built for more people than currently occupied it. Sherry watched her Captain and current commanding officer enter behind his troops. Rebecca, who had been left at base, was waiting for him like a jilted wife. She had wanted to come with the group should the medical need arise. Chris chose to leave her there for reasons he did not explain. Rebecca pulled Chris into the conference room, as Ashley skipped in carrying a portable hard drive. Ashley was on her way to the dissection room, a room Ashley had set up with low cost but powerful computers connected to a closed network. That way, should the hard drive have something harmful, it would only damage easily replaceable hardware. Mason trotted up the stairs, "Let me know if you need me." He yawned. Mason had taken up residence in the bunk room. He said it was because of the space, but Sherry had suspicions it was to be close to the fire pole. Mason was originally from New Braunfels, Texas, and was stationed in Oklahoma with Gamma Squad. He just happened to be in New England when they needed a top notch interrogator, Which was his only "S+" grade as far as came to BSAA metrics. Otherwise he was a B and C agent with a wandering eye. Sherry did not really mind him though.

Sherry was the second person, aside from Mason, to take up residence in the fire house. It was better than her lonely apartment, and she donated her Xbox to the rec room. Mason and Ashley were almost always there so she was not as lonely as when she was alone in her apartment. It was like having an older brother and younger sister in the house, and that was not something she had ever known. With Chris being chewed out by a subordinate, and curiosity nagging at her, Sherry decided to follow Ashley into the dissection room. Once she got there, she approached tech infatuated blonde as she squinted at newly acquired data, "Anything useful?" Sherry inquired.

Ashley nearly jumped out of her skin, "I'll say." She tapped the screen, "There's nothing on any kind of sleeper cell program, but there are a list of patients, and they're organized into trees."

"Why are there cards faces?" Sherry pointed to the various poker cards where the names should have been.

"It's a type of code. My guess is there is a legend somewhere with the names, but wherever it is, it isn't on this hard drive." Ashley responded as she scrolled through the list. Some of them had pictures others did not. Sherry stopped Ashley's hand as a picture of a brunette woman with blonde frosting at the tips appeared on screen.

"Where have I—" Then it hit her, "Chris!" Sherry shouted as she took off for the conference room. She nearly left Ashley spinning in her chair.

"What, Sherry, what's wrong?" Ashley took after her senior. Sherry did not respond as she banked around the stairwell to the second floor and nearly slid into the door.

* * *

"You need me on these missions." Rebecca scolded, "I won't sit out just because you want to protect me." Rebecca had been like a baby sister to Chris since the incident in the Arklay Mountains, and she had every right to be angry. Chris fought back a smile. He was proud she had the balls to stand up to him like this. She had come a long way from being Bravo team's favorite punching bag. Sure she still was still the same Rebecca he had always known, and, really, her personality had not changed much since that time. However, it was nice that she had it in her to chew someone out.

"I'm sorry." Chris responded

"I'm not done ye— what?"

"I'm sorry." Chris drawled out as if to make his voice more clear, "You're our doctor, most of us have basic medical training, but none of us are prepared for toxic chemicals."

"I am."

"You don't know what kind of chemicals they were."

"No, but in my time as a virologist for the CDC, I found a serum for spontaneous cell reconstruction. It can regenerate almost anything. I cultured samples of it from the last viral outbreak."

This ended Chris's amusement, and it was now his turn to get angry, "Why am I just hearing about this now? Did you use it on my sister?"

"It's highly experimental—"

"Did you use it on my sister?"

"Yes, it's why she didn't die on the operating table." Chris loosened, "It's only been a week since she's been under; she'll wake up. When she does, she'll be ready to kick all kinds of ass." Chris smiled again. He was worried about his sister. He wanted nothing more than to be at her side, but if there was anything he could count on it was that she would wake up. Claire was as much of a badass as he was, and she did not have the military training he did.

The door to the conference room nearly broke from its hinges as Sherry tumbled through it, "Chris, you need to see this." She wheezed

"I need to see what?"

Ashley trotted in behind her, "I don't know. Sherry saw something I didn't." Sherry took off once more. She led Chris, Ashley and Rebecca back to the dissection room, and pointed at the picture of the woman with frosted blonde tips.

"Recognize her?" asked Sherry.

Chris immediately recognized the woman labeled as the Queen of hearts, "Jill?"

_**Author's Note:**_** Sorry for the delay, I got side tracked. Also don't point out that Ashley is older than Sherry. I tried to look up their ages, and I found conflicting info on Ashley. I went out of my way to make my three additional characters a bit more interesting but I hope I didn't go too far the other way. Thanks for the reviews, and please continue to do so. **


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